


agree to disagree

by Infinitree



Series: Captain Underpants and the Confounding Chronicles of Counterpart Communication [6]
Category: Captain Underpants Series - Dav Pilkey, Captain Underpants: The First Epic Movie (2017)
Genre: Gen, sometimes not everything in this au gets Existential
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-13
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:48:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25234153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Infinitree/pseuds/Infinitree
Summary: A compromise is reached. Or, at least, attempted to.
Series: Captain Underpants and the Confounding Chronicles of Counterpart Communication [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1804579
Comments: 2
Kudos: 20





	agree to disagree

**Author's Note:**

> > anasten27 asked: 14. I think you forgot who wears the pants in this relationship. (I don't think I even need to say what to use this for, I think it could be hilarious)
> 
> Because not all my oneshots for this AU are all bummers/existential and are, in fact, the advertised shenanigans in the series' description. This is also another case of me adding extra stuff and not just syntax changes that wasn't in the Tumblr first draft. 

_I think you forget who wears the pants in this relationship._

Benjamin whited out the last word and replaced it with _parasitic partnership._ One underline. Two underlines. An exclamation point for good measure.

Snap. Splash. He checked the clock; ten minutes, and no pants on him or any sign of it in the living room. Once again, his pants were spirited away to who-knows-where by the hero.

_“No, I remember, and they’re extremely uncomfortable!”_ Captain yelled back, the latter half of the statement having flew over his head. His voice returned to its usual timbre. _“But, what does that have to do with what we’re talking about?”_

The principal bit back a frustrated groan, because what’s the point when the object of annoyance wasn’t there? He rubbed his temple.

_It’s a figure of speech,_ he wrote down. _The point is that you can’t just run off and patrol the city until midnight--_ two, _no, three_ underlines-- _on a school night._

Snap. Splash.

_“But evil never sleeps!”_

Benjamin ran a hand down his face. _And I need to earn a paycheck so we--_ white out-- _I have a place to sleep, and I can’t do that if I go to work half-dead._

Snap. Splash.

“And you _wouldn’t have had a place to work if that giant mold had it’s way with the school three-- four?-- No, definitely three-- nights ago.”_ The Waistband Warrior paused for a moment and blew a raspberry. _“So there.”_

Benjamin flopped back on the recliner. A part of him was almost tempted to brew up a coffee to ease his nerves, but between how late it was and how said caffeine would also affect his other self it would have been a bad idea.

He sighed. _We can’t keep doing this. One of these days, it’ll bite us in the_ \-- and it took all the self-restraint to not use the _first_ word he thought of-- _butt. We need to figure something out._

Snap.

* * *

Captain Underpants came to the feeling of his hands clammier than the last snap. It was always weird to feel the aftermath of his other self’s emotions. But he was a hero! He’s dealt with worse!

In any case, the matter at hand.

_“Quite_ a predicament.” He tapped a finger on his chin as he glanced to the cassette. He tried to imagine his other self’s exasperated expression that he was most likely wearing for his half of the conversation. “I, for one, do _not_ want my butt bitten, figure of speech or no.”

A pause. _Ugh,_ these clothes were getting way too stifling, he can’t think like this! One wardrobe change and curtain rip later and he was hovering over the table.

“Alright. What do you suggest?” 

He put a few fingers in a nearby cup and splashed himself. Snap. 

He was standing now, one hand on a hip. Pain ebbed away, and in its place came the terrible, skin-crawling sensation of the pants his other self got. One harried rush to take off the offending outerwear-- and throwing yet _another_ pair of pants out the window to parts unknown-- did he finally read the note.

_1\. Land before turning back,_ Benjamin wrote, his handwriting more shaky than usual. _That_ would explain the strange bout of pain.

_2\. No patrols during school hours or late at night._

_3\. Stop hiding my pants._

_3a. Stop throwing around my clothes-- I’m running out of laundry soap, and it doesn’t come cheap._

_4\. Don’t be so reckless in your fights._

“Duly noted on the first one. I’ll try and be more careful, but no promises.” The Waistband Warrior frowned. _“However,_ I’m afraid I can’t abide by your other terms, Benjamin. They’re hardly fair.”

Splash. Snap.

_OH, COME ON!_

“You heard me,” the hero huffed, turning away from the cassette. “I’m a hero! I have to patrol to make sure the city of Pick-wa is safe. Plus, plus-- those clothes are so uncomfortable and stifling! How you manage to do anything with those _accursed_ fabrics on you without jumping out of your skin is a mystery to me. I’m doing you a favor.”

Splash, snap.

_I need to look presentable as a principal, and unlike you, the school and society at large has a dress code that I have to abide by._

_(PS. It’s Peak-wuh.)_

Captain stuck his tongue out at the note. Sure, his other self will never see it but it was, forgive the pun, the principle of the thing. He eyed the last few notes with furrowed brows, and-- _hold on now._

“You’re making demands, not compromising,” he rebutted. “It’s only fair if I get a say in it.”

Splash, snap.

_Fine. What do you want out of this?_

_“Huh._ Honestly, I kinda expected that you’d put up more of a fuss,” the hero said with the obliviousness of a person who didn’t realize that an entire hour had passed.

More importantly, what _did_ he want? Captain wrestled out of his other self’s clothes _again_ and begrudgingly put them in a sloppy heap on the recliner. Might as well try to be a little diplomatic, even if his other self’s demands were ludicrous. The hero pushed up into an idle float upside-down. He did his best thinking floating, anyway-- helped the blood rush up to his head.

“First of all, I want you to give some of my sidekicks’ stuff back,” he said in the recording proper, counting off his fingers. “Secondly, you should buy better cereal, because Not-So-Cheerios isn’t cutting it and I know you hate it too. Thirdly-- no pants.”

His held his damp hand close to his face before remembering, _right,_ he had to land. Splash, snap.

_NO!!!_

"It appears we have reached an impasse." The Waistband Warrior crossed his arms. “I have _aaaaaaaaaaaaaall_ night,” he drawled out, giving a Look to the cassette. 

Splash, snap.

_I’ll give them back one thing, but I draw the line at no pants._

“Then I draw the line at limiting my late-night patrols!” Captain hummed. “And one thing _each._ Sidekicks’ choice.”

Splash, snap.

_I still need to look presentable, you know. I’ll try and find more comfortable clothes that won’t kill you or whatever when you come up, but only after I get my next paycheck. Just stop throwing them everywhere and at least put them somewhere dry._

“And giving back my sidekicks’ stuff?”

Splash. Snap.

_Fine. Now is that all?_

“What’s the magic word?”

Splash. Snap.

In bold black sharpie-- **_NO._**

“Then I guess you don’t need those things,” the hero taunted. “C’mon, just _one_ little please. On tape.”

Was that veering a little too _anti-heroic?_ Perhaps. He quickly splashed himself before he had any time to linger on those thoughts.

Snap.

Captain felt the flush of embarrassment on his face cool down. He eyed the cassette curiously. There was no note, meaning...

He pressed play. It always felt strange to hear his own voice talk back to him. Except, it wasn’t, was it? The voice was more tired, more gruff than his. _“-- h for--”_ There was a pause as the sound of the cassette being placed back down. _“It’s literally two in the morning-- ugh-- please. Please! Just. Ugh--”_ And the recording stopped with a click.

Captain let out a small laugh before rewinding and replaying it a few more times to commit it to memory.

By the time Benjamin comes back to, it's six in the morning and he's in bed in the full Captain Underpants Getup. The cassette had already been switched out for a new one, evidence of his moment of weakness now squirreled away at... _wherever_ his other self keeps his tchotchkes.

* * *

By the time Captain Underpants resurfaces again, it's six in the evening and he was in the dining room. The radio had been playing some jazzy tune that was most likely the cause of the sudden switch, because Benjamin-- and now he was still holding a pen. And right in front of him was a small paper bag that had the unmistakable smell of something fresh-baked and sweet.

_The Not-So-Cheerios stay. This is completely unrelate,_ he managed to write out.

"Methinks the principal protests too much," Captain said aloud, vaguely recalling a show that had the exact same line. But never mind all that-- there were cookies to scarf down, and any upset tummies were a problem for future Captain-- or Benjamin, depending on how things would go down tonight.

**Author's Note:**

> 15/07/2020: [Here's a bonus scene of sorts showing what the boys picked](https://infini-tree.tumblr.com/post/623582296655773696/based-on-a-question-i-got-from-kittykatgeorgie-on).


End file.
